


Him.

by MagicalFoxes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluffy, I didn't read it through so any spelling or grammatical errors are due to my laziness., M/M, VictUuri, kind of future-verse I guess, not much dialogue, prepare your heart, they're so in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalFoxes/pseuds/MagicalFoxes
Summary: In which Yuuri dwells on his love for one Victor Nikiforov.





	Him.

I know I’ve said it a million times before, but after all these years it’s amazing that Victor can still surprise me. The way he looks at me in the morning when I wake to find him already watching me, or the smile on his lips when he tells me he loves me, or flowers waiting in a vase on the dining table when I come home after a long day, or the texts I get while he’s gone telling me how much he misses me; I don’t think the day will ever come that I’m not surprised by him. I think that’s what I love most about him. He told me once that it’s what he loves about me, but it’s hard to believe that I can ever surprise him. It’s still incredible that he chose me, that I’m the one he wants to spend his life with. In comparison to all of the other people he’s been with, to the people that throw themselves at him left and right, even to Victor himself, I’m ordinary and boring. But I’ve fought hard to be good enough for him, to be worthy of him, and even though I don’t feel like I’ve yet succeeded the way he looks at me tells me otherwise.

He’s older than me by four years and sometimes it’s bothers him. He’s aging faster, he’s not a kid anymore, and he’s certainly not the twenty-seven-year-old that showed up in Japan. But I don’t see any of that. It doesn’t matter to me, even if it does to him. Every time he points out a laugh line or makes a comment about aching somewhere, there’s a darkness in his eyes. Those are usually the days I clear my schedule to spend time with him, to remind him that he’s still just as stunning to me as he was the first time I saw him. The way I see him, the way I feel, won’t ever change. I know that to be an absolute fact. Because, if I’m being completely honest, it hurts to think of a life without him, and it’s hard to believe that I once lived that life.

When he’s sad, or frustrated, he holds me. I don’t stop him, I don’t pull away even if we’ve been sitting in the same position for over an hour and I start going numb somewhere. He pulls me into his lap on the bed or the sofa and he rests his chin on my shoulder, and we watch TV or go through our phones in silence while he deals with whatever it is that’s bothering him. And when he feels better, he kisses my cheek and tells me how much he appreciates having me, and it might be wrong to say but those are some of my favorite moments. To know he needs me as much as I need him is a feeling I can’t quite describe.

Sometimes he drags me to the rink and we skate until our legs buckle, side by side and perfectly in sync with each other and the music. We’ll lay on the ice for a few minutes to catch our breath and cool our aching bodies, and then we’ll go home to collapse into bed, his arms wrapped securely around me. I always wake up after him, no matter how early it is, and I wonder sometimes if he sleeps at all. Every time I open my eyes he’s smiling softly and he always whispers good morning and kisses my forehead, and I always feel like a giddy teenager with their first crush. When I kiss him, he sighs contently and every muscle relaxes, and I can’t help but blush knowing something so simple can satisfy him so entirely.

"What’re you thinking about?”

I look up, pulled from my thoughts, and find the beautiful aqua eyes I love so much watching me from across the dining table. I smile, “You and me.”

Victor chuckles, “Oh?” he asks lightly. “Anything specific?”

"Not really,” I confess.

He reaches across the table to take my hand, using his free one to push his dinner plate aside. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

His voice is low and soft, and it makes me shiver. I blush as he pulls me forward and meets me in the middle. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

He still makes me feel like I did all those years ago; the heat rushing through me and desire clutching my heart. He’s the only one who has ever had such an effect on me, and I know he’ll always be. The way his eyes sparkle and his lips curl into a sly smirk, like he knows what he’s doing to me even though he doesn’t know the half of it, makes my heart sore. He thinks he understands just how easy it is for him to get to me, but oh if only I could tell him that all he has to do is exist. One breath makes me fall all over again, and every kiss is more incredible than the first. I know this feeling will never go away. I know I’ll always love him.

“You’re lost again,” Victor says. “Where do you keep going?”

I mentally shake myself, “Sorry,” I say, bringing his hand up to my cheek and resting against it. “It’s hard not to lose myself in you.” I know my line has struck a chord by the way his cheeks glow a faint pink, and that sparkle of desire turns to one of affection. I can’t help it, I lean forward and kiss him lightly, smiling as we part. “ _I love you._ ” It’s one of the first things I learned in Russian, it wasn’t hard when I heard it all the time.

He likes to speak in his native tongue when he thinks I’m still asleep, or I’m out of earshot; he doesn’t know how much I really understand, and I’m afraid that if I tell him then he’ll stop. I don’t want that. I love the little comments he makes under his breath about wanting me, and the words he hisses between his teeth at night, and his annoyed mumbling when he doesn’t want to start a fight. I never would have imagined I could love a foreign language so much, but I can’t get enough.

“ _I love you_.”

I smile. His Japanese has improved. “We’re supposed to meet the others for drinks later, right?” I ask, tracing his features with my eyes.

“Should I let them know we’re not going to make it?” Victor asks, and there’s a hint of hope in his voice.

I nod, catching his gaze again. “Yeah, I think you should.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a month ago and it's been sitting in my documents collecting dust, so now I'm setting it free.
> 
> I hope you liked it.


End file.
